


Carol of the Bells

by MalevolentReverie



Series: Dark Reylo Short Stories [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Christmas Special, Complete, Dark, Darkfic, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Missionary Position, One Shot, Rape, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 18:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Rey's neighbor Ben comes to her parent's yearly Christmas party. Everyone's drunk—except them.





	Carol of the Bells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antibanana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antibanana/gifts).



> yay!

The yearly holiday party is upon the Niima household, and it’s bigger than ever this year.

Rey weaves through the throng of people in her new green dress, precariously balancing a plate of hors d’oeuvres. It smells like pine needles and sugar cookies, just like Christmas should, and everyone’s having a drink and laughing. She’s snuck a few sips of champagne.

All the adults are well on their way to being drunk, though. Even her parents, sitting on their new chaise lounge in the big living room, aren’t holding back. Their cheeks are rosy red and they keep giggling to each other while they tell their stories. Soft classical music floats through the house, mingling with the chatter and laughter into a pleasant, dull swell of noise.

It’s easy to forget about the stress of being sixteen: getting her driving permit, SATs, college applications… it’s a lot. Here she’s in the eye of the storm and she can finally take a breather.

The doorbell rings. Rey sets down a tray of crudités and pads to answer it in her white ballet flats. She has her hair in three rings, too—a new thing she saw on Pinterest. It’s kind of hard to pull off.

She opens the door with a smile. “Merry Chri… stmas…”

In a flurry of snow and cold wind stands her neighbor’s son, Ben Solo. He’s leaning on the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his khakis that Rey’s sure Leia made him wear. His hair is cut short around his ears so they’re still hidden; it’s not long like it used to be.

He raises his eyebrows and smiles. “Hi, Rey.” He shrugs off the doorframe and keeps his gaze on her as he walks inside, making her back out of the way. “Don’t you look pretty tonight?”

Ben’s in college. He’s tall; much taller than Rey, and he smells like cologne and… cookies?

She blinks and notices a plate of sugar cookies in the crook of his arm. Oh. Yeah. Christmas party.

 “Thanks,” she mutters. “Um, your mom and dad are in the other room. I’ll put those in the kitchen.”

 “I’ll come. How have you been? Haven’t seen you in… what, a couple years now? We always miss each other when I come home to visit.”

Rey leads him through the crowd out to the kitchen. He picks up a beer from the counter and leans on it to watch her set down the plate and fold back the plastic wrap. He looks nice. Green sweater. Dress shoes. Same lopsided smile she grew up watching.

 “Ben?!”

Leia comes from the living room, red-faced like Rey’s mom and dad, bracelets jingling on her wrists. She throws her arms around Ben and before Rey can slip away, her parents and Han box her in. She glances up at Ben while he laughs and kisses his mom’s cheeks.

They fall into a pattern of catching up and trading stories, and everyone seems relaxed except Rey. Ben’s nice. He’s… _touchy_ , though.

 “You’re working now?” Dad asks. He nudges Rey with his elbow. “This one’s putting in her applications. Ben can probably help you, doll.”

 “Isn’t this the sweetest dress?!” Mom exclaims, tugging the hem of Rey’s new dress. “She looks so grown up in it! My little baby.” She cups her cheek and suddenly, she’s teary-eyes. “You’re growing up too fast.”

 “They always do,” Leia sighs.

Rey tries to shrug away from her parents and they all keep laughing. She feels like a little kid standing between all these adults joking and drinking. It’s embarrassing—and saying she looks ‘grown up’!

Ben sips his beer, eyeing her. “Yeah, I’m working in Manhattan for a big firm, but probably partnering in the future. And I agree: Rey looks _very_ grown up.”

He rests a hand behind her and she realizes she’s really trapped. Nervous, Rey looks to her parents for support, but they’re too busy chatting and enjoying each other’s company to care. She clasps her hands in front of herself and waits for the conversation to end.

Ben shifts closer. His hip bumps Rey’s; she feels his cable-knit sweater catch on her dress. The scent of beer mingles with cologne and cookies.

 “Where did you get this dress?” he murmurs. He’s breathing on the side of her head. “You look beautiful in it.”

Rey clears her throat. “Macy’s. I thought you were still in college?”

 “No, graduated last year. I’m twenty-seven, goof.”

Ah. Right. She remembers watching him coming home late with girls, back when she was little and mesmerized by him. It really _has_ been years. Last she remembers, Ben was a sophomore in community college and doing okay.

Mom barges in. “You’re so sweet to her, Ben! Are you seeing anyone Rey needs to worry about?”

 “Mom!” Rey hisses.

Leia and her mom giggle to each other. Dad gives Ben a genial pat on the arm and Han slaps his back before the four of them wander off to wreak havoc elsewhere.

Rey stands silently amid the music and chatter, Ben hovering beside her. She hesitates for another moment, feeling like she needs to say something, then slips away to find somewhere to hide. She doesn’t know what to talk to him about.

But he follows.

He sits next to her in the living room on the new couch mom loves. The fabric is tight and hard; deep red, embossed with gold. It’s sort of hideous.

Ben puts an arm over the back, close to Rey’s shoulders. He lets his thigh lean on hers.

 “What d’you want for Christmas?” he asks.

 “Clothes and stuff.” She tugs her dress over her knees. “Did it take long to come up from the city?”

He drinks, smiling. “Not long. You could come visit me some time, you know. I have a place on the Upper West Side.” Fingertips brush Rey’s shoulder. “You really have grown up. Not that gangly little kid anymore, are you?”

She doesn’t know what to say. The room feels too tight and small and all the laughing and talking has reached a fever pitch. Ben nuzzles her temple with the tip of his nose, breathing on her cheek, and Rey feels like she might pass out.

Lights swirl. People keep laughing. Her stomach rolls anxiously. Is it hot in here?

Rey needs some space.

She hurries up to her bedroom, kicking off her flats along the way, and slams the door shut once she’s inside. She leans on it for a minute with her eyes closed, just trying to catch her breath. Music still drifts up from downstairs and she can hear the faint clinking of glasses.

This is better, though. She can take a break before she heads back down to the party.

Rey wanders to her bed and flops on her back, spread-eagle. She heaves a sigh, closing her eyes again, and basks in the quiet. Just a couple minutes… then she’ll go back…

Her door creaks open.

Rey jerks up and catches Ben slipping inside, cupping a glass of red wine and smiling faintly. He shuts the door behind him and turns the lock. His cheeks have a pink tint to them.

 “I wondered where you ran off to,” he murmurs, sipping his wine. “Taking a break?”

She stares. “I… I should get back.”

Ben clicks his tongue and sets his glass on Rey’s nightstand as he approaches. He takes his phone from his pocket and sets it on the alarm clock dock right next to the wine. Casual, he swipes through until _Frosty The Snowman_ starts playing _._

 “Let’s listen to some music,” he suggests. His hands move to his belt. “Get more comfortable.”

 “Really, I should—”

Suddenly, he’s standing between her knees; there in one fluid step. His buckle clinks as he opens his belt and bends over at the waist to kiss Rey. She jerks back in surprise, but Ben cups her cheek and follows, slipping his tongue in her mouth.

Rey grasps his wrist, teetering back. His mouth tastes like beer and sugar and it makes her dizzy.

She pulls away, heart pounding. “My parents have a rule about keeping the door open—and—”

 “Do they?” Ben kisses the corner of her mouth and roams down, trailing wet kisses along the way. “I think they’re too busy to notice.”

She’s never been kissed like this before. Rey shivers, tickled by his tongue and lips on her skin, and she clutches the front of his sweater. He wraps an arm behind her back to lift and move her up the bed a bit roughly. The music carries on.

Ben kneels on her bed between her knees and kisses along her collarbone. He’s big. His broad shoulders eclipse the string of lights around her window and then he’s lying on top of her, heavy; too heavy. Her thighs squeeze his hips.

 “Ben,” she whispers. “We should go back.”

 “What’s Santa bringing you for Christmas, Rey?”

Rey tries to wriggle away but he refuses to move. Her voice rises along with her panic and she digs her heels into her mattress, shifting her hips to push Ben off, but he won’t budge. He claps a hand over her mouth and buries his face in the crook of his neck, beating down his weight to keep her from struggling.

 “I asked Santa—” Ben grunts, suppressing more struggling— “for something sweet this Christmas.” His other huge hand paws under her dress and yanks her panties to her knees. “Looks like I’m getting it early.”

Pulse pounding, Rey shrieks into his warm palm and thrashes wildly on her bed. It creaks and rattles on the wall but not enough to draw attention from the revelry downstairs. She claws at his back, dragging her nails through the soft cotton sweater, and Ben shimmies his pants down his hips.

She can’t see anything. She can’t move—can’t speak. Rey feels like she’s suffocating under Ben as he shushes her and pants in her ear, beer breath and cologne mixing into a sick cocktail. His briefs brush her inner thighs then she feels _it_ right against her entrance. _It._

Ben reaches down to angle his cock. It pushes. It’s hotter than the rest of him and soft but unyielding. Rey puffs frantically and stares at the ceiling over his shoulder with wide eyes. Holy shit—holy shit!

 “It’s rude to ignore people, baby,” he whispers in her ear. He guides his head along the seam of her slit before moving gently through her folds. Rey huffs a sob. “Don’t you want to come see my apartment? See a play on Broadway?” Ben teases her entrance, dipping in an inch and back out. It stings. “Don’t you?”

She manages a nod. He hums and on his next move, keeps pushing, guiding his cock inside her.

Rey scrabbles for her nightstand and phone but she can’t quite reach. She screws her eyes shut and screams into Ben’s palm as he works deeper and deeper, puffing with pleasure in her ear. It’s big. It’s way bigger than a tampon. Her mattress groans rhythmically under their weight.

 “Shame I’m gonna stain this pretty new dress with cum.” He rocks his hips, straining through her tense passage like he can’t wait to sheathe his cock inside her. He keeps her mouth covered and grabs the headboard to keep it from hitting the wall. “It’s so pretty—just like you.”

The fabric rustles each time Ben thrusts. Rey closes her eyes and listens to the music downstairs, hoping someone will come up and check on her. It’s dark and quiet in her bedroom, just broken by Ben’s soft groans and skin slapping skin.

She feels like an empty vessel waiting to be filled. He pumps slow and steady and keeps his face hidden while he fucks her but she can hear the subtle pleasured sounds he makes. It feels _right_ for some reason; maybe even good. Rey swallows hard and tries to make sense of what’s happening.

 “Little next door neighbor Rey,” Ben coos, breathless, “all grown up. I remember you watching me when you were a kid.” He draws back, dragging his cock along her walls, making her shudder, then eases back in. “Always covered in dirt—fucking adorable.”

Rey arches as he sinks to the hilt and finally lets her mouth go. He kisses her deeply, swallowing her begging and pleading, until she manages to break away and twists her face from his.

 “What are you doing?” she sobs. Her fingers claw at his back. “Wh-What are you _doing_?!”

 “I thought about you when I had sex.” Ben rolls his hips, nuzzling her temple. Now _Carol of The Bells_ is playing in the background. “You were such a cute kid.”

 “Please s-stop! You’re hurting me!”

 “Shh… quiet, baby. You don’t want to make a fuss, do you? Want someone to see you letting me fuck you in your pretty new dress?”

Rey’s lower lip quivers. That would be humiliating.

Ben resumes his pace, grasping her hip to angle deeper. It rubs a new way inside Rey and she hides her face in his neck to keep him from seeing. Her toes curl; warmth tingles around her lower back and between her legs. She’s wetter now and the pain trickles away into insistent pressure.

The bed creaks. Rey chews inside her cheek, fighting to contain herself, but he keeps thrusting, and the tension breaks.

Ben grunts. “That’s right—come for me, babe.”

 “No—n-no!”

She whimpers fast under her breath and squeezes her eyes shut as she does exactly what he says. It feels different from her masturbation orgasms—her body flutters around Ben, clenching and squeezing, and she has to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning.

He keeps moving, then his breath hitches, and she feels him twitch inside her. Rey realizes Ben’s coming before she can think to stop him and listens to his satisfied grunts as he pumps his load with jerky thrusts. She stares at the ceiling, panting. He didn’t pull out—and she’s not on birth control.

Finally— _finally_ —he stills.

He huffs against her neck. Cum drools from Rey’s cunt and she’s sure it’s on her dress.

 “Merry Christmas, Rey.”


End file.
